Somebody Else
by nocte-caelum
Summary: Just a little (depressing) post-FrUK-breakup fic in which Francis is getting drunk and thinking about his ex, Arthur Kirkland. Human AU. PruCan, USUK and mentions of past FrUK, with a tiny bit of AsaKiku


**Oh look, another Hetalia one-shot...**

 **Basically, I was reading a fanfic in which the subplot was that Arthur had cheated on someone else and, knock on effect, shit started to happen - and when I got to the really depressing part, this song came on... (Somebody Else by the 1975)**

 **Anywayyyyy - this happened, so enjoy •^_^•**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

* * *

So _I heard you found somebody else_

 _And at first I thought it was a lie_

Francis laughed bitterly. Oh, he'd known, deep down. He just hadn't want to believe it. Admit it.

 _I took all my things that make sounds_

 _The rest I can do without_

He poured himself yet another glass of wine. Squinting at the floor, he could count...twelve bottles. But everything was a bit fuzzy, so he could be seeing some doubles.

Either way, he was drunk. Drunk and depressed.

 _I don't want your body_

 _But I hate to think about you with somebody else_

Francis growled and groped blindly for the remote. This song was too damn accurate, and therefore too depressing, especially considering his current mood.

 _Our love has gone cold_

 _You're intertwining your soul with somebody else_

Sighing, Francis gave up in his search. If it wasn't on the couch, he wasn't going to find it - he knew that his legs wouldn't support him at this stage of drunkenness.

He was drunk not stupid.

 _I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone_

 _And then leaving with somebody else_

Just like the club last night...

Francis thought hard, and could just about recall the pre-drunk flashes of Arthur's laughing face, green eyes alight as he looked at his American... _boyfriend_.

The word tasted sour to him.

 _No I don't want your body_

 _But I'm picturing your body with somebody else_

That was true. The mere thought of Arthur touching him again made him want to run to the nearest toilet and puke.

Six months...they had been together for nearly _four_ years, and for the last _six months_ of those wasted years, Arthur had been sleeping with that damn American.

Alfred.

 _Psh, what a stupid name_ , Francis thought angrily. _Alfred sounds like some eighty year old man with false teeth - at least my name is sexy!_

 _Come on baby_

 _This ain't the last time that I'll see your face_

"Unfortunately..." Francis muttered, scowling. In a town as small as the one they lived in, it was impossible not to run into everyone you knew.

He'd already run into Arthur three times since he'd walked in on his now _ex_ -boyfriend and _Alfred_ in their bedroom, on the king size bed _he_ had picked out for _their_ apartment.

With help from Antonio and Gilbert, had had burnt that bed.

 _Come on baby_

 _You said you'd find someone to take my place_

Francis winced. That one was too much, too soon.

 _Oh I just don't believe that you have got it in you cause_

 _We are just gonna keep "doin' it" and everytime_

If by "doin' it" they meant avoiding each other as much as possible, then...yeah. If anything else...

Attempting to avoid one another was the only thing Francis and Arthur did together nowadays.

 _I start to believe in anything you're saying_

 _I'm reminded that I should be getting over it_

 _Stupid lying bastard_ , Francis seethed.

" _I've just fallen out of love_." Was what he had said.

No, Arthur hadn't fallen _out_ of love.

He had fallen _in_ love.

In love with _someone else_.

The lying, cheating bastard.

Well, he could go fuck himself. Or Alfred. Francis didn't give a shit. The sex had been god awful anyway!

 _I don't want your body_

 _But I hate to think about you with somebody else_

Yeah...that was true. Just thinking about Arthur and Alfred being together...doing those silly couple-y things _he_ had used to do with Arthur made him feel torn between crying and puking.

Maybe both, at the same time.

 _Our love has gone cold_

 _You're intertwining your soul with somebody else_

It hadn't even gone cold! Their relationship had been as damn close to perfect as possible. Sure, they had argued, but name one couple that didn't! The only reason for their breakup was Arthur's infidelity. As much as he tried to say otherwise.

 _I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone_

 _And then leaving with somebody else_

" _You stopped listening to me!_ "

" _You never payed any attention to me!_ "

" _You never even wanted to have_ _sex anymore!_ "

The last one hurt the most. Sure, they hadn't done it as much as usual, but that was because Francis was stressed by his larger-than-usual workload. A workload he had taken on because he needed the extra money to buy the ring he was going to propose with. He had even picked it out - one modest, but still brilliant, diamond set in the middle of a thick platinum band, framed with tiny smatterings of emeralds, the same shade as Arthur's eyes.

 _No I don't want your body_

 _But I'm picturing your body with somebody else_

Francis' grip on his wine glass tightened to the point of snapping the stem. He watched detachedly as the two halves fell to the floor and smashed, wine seeping closer to the new rug he had gotten after he had burnt the old one with the bed. He had burnt most of the furniture and furnishings in the apartment, actually.

He was only dimly aware of the front door opening and closing, and a soft voice coming from the living room doorway.

"Oh, _François_ ," it sighed.

" _Mathieu_ ," Francis croaked in return, trying to smile at his cousin. "How was your date?" In his inebriated state, he couldn't disguise the slight flinch at the word 'date'.

Matthew sighed, and turned the speaker off, before gathering all the bottles littering the floor...there were less than Francis had counted. When he came back, it was with a cloth and dustpan and brush, and began cleaning up the mess the Frenchman had made.

"It's on the rug, Francis. You know that will stain it!" Matthew scolded, making the older man shrug.

"It's no problem. It'll just serve as a reminder in the future not to drink so heavily." His cousin looked confused at Francis' response, so he elaborated. "Me. Drunk. Hangover. Pain. Stain. Reminder. Pain. Making sense?" The wine was starting to make him snappy, so Matthew just sighed, and helped the other man stand up.

"Whatever you say, _mon cousin_." Was all he said, helping the other man to his bedroom.

Before he was even fully laid down in the bed, Francis passed out. A rustle from the doorway made Matthew look up, grinning as he spied his boyfriend.

"Hey, Gil," he said quietly.

"Hows he doin'?" The albino asked, nodding towards his friend.

"Not good," Matthew sighed. "I'm not normally a violent person, but I swear to God that if I get my hands on Arthur...he isn't going to know what hit him!"

Gilbert snorted. "Sure...not a violent person..." He trailed off, remembering their... _domestic dispute_...the other day about whether they should watch Canada's hockey match - Matthew's choice - or the World Cup Final - Gilbert's.

Safe to say that now the Prussian (as he insisted) now knew the pain of being hit - repeatedly - with a large hockey stick.

"In all seriousness though, Gil." Matthew's voice made Gilbert focus on his boyfriend once again. "I know you and Toni are plotting revenge - don't try and deny it. Just know that I want in if it includes beating or publicly embarrassing Arthur."

"Sure, Birdie." Gilbert smirked at him. He loved this side of his little Birdie! Almost as much as the sweet side that made him pancakes every day, but _pancakes_!

The couple headed back to Gilbert's house, having only popped in to check on Francis, both of them still imagining exacting their revenge on a certain blonde brit.

Somewhere, Arthur Kirkland sneezed.

"You alright, babe," a sleepy voice called from his right side.

"Uh, yeah, Al. Go back to sleep," the blonde replied.

Alfred did as he was told, and as soon as his boyfriend was asleep, Arthur sighed with relief and whipped his phone back out.

 _Kiku: Your place or mine? ;)_

The first text message read. Arthur smirked, looking at his sleeping love with only the slightest hint of guilt.

 _You: Yours. I really miss you. I'm sure you know exactly how I mean that. ;)_

He replied, still smirking.

He had no idea of what was about to happen to him. And no idea how much everyone around him would enjoy it. Because Alfred wasn't as gullible as Francis. Because he wanted revenge for his cousin as well, even if Francis was still pissed with him, and didn't believe that he had honestly not known.

The 'sleeping' Alfred smirked, far more evilly than Arthur's smug, self-satisfied grin, and had to restrain his urge to manically cackle.

* * *

 **In this fic, Francis, Antonio and Gilbert (or France, Spain and Prussia) are all good friends, but not the same age. Francis is the eldest (27), and he's two years older than Antonio (25), and four years older than Gilbert (23). Francis knows Gilbert through Antonio, who is his (Gilbert's) cousin. Matthew is Francis' cousin as well, and is 20. Alfred and Matthew are twins, and therefore Alfred is also Francis' cousin, however the Frenchman is pretty pissed that Alfred was (and still is, for now) with Arthur.**

 **Just to clarify, Alfred genuinely didn't know that Arthur and Francis were still together, and when he found put what happened, he A) felt really bad and apologised to Francis, who didn't believe him; and B) started plotting revenge against his 'loving' boyfriend. He also knows that Arthur is currently cheating on him (in case that wasn't obvious)**

 **Phew! I think I've cleared all that up! Here's just the French translations, and which nation is which human (if that makes sense...)**

 **Mon cousin - My cousin**

 **François - French form of Francis**

 **Mathieu - French form of Matthew**

 **—**

 **Francis - France**

 **Arthur - England/Britain**

 **Alfred - America**

 **Antonio - Spain**

 **Gilbert - Prussia**

 **Matthew - Canada**


End file.
